


That Time Clint and Natasha Had A Threesome With Darcy

by eiluned



Series: Troika [3]
Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Come Shot, Crack Pairing, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, F/F, F/M, Female Ejaculation, Multi, Open Relationships, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot, Rimming, Threesome - F/F/M, Tribbing, unapologetic porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 05:20:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/427304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eiluned/pseuds/eiluned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Natasha have sort of an open relationship, and it helps that they get off on hearing about each other's outside conquests. Imagine their surprise when they realize that two of their conquests are actually the same girl: Darcy Lewis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As a note, the three Clint/Darcy/Natasha happen chronologically in this order: "That Time When Clint Showed Darcy How to Play Darts (and Then Got Laid)," "That Time When Natasha Took Darcy Out for Drinks (and Then Got Laid)," and "That Time Clint and Natasha Had A Threesome With Darcy." However, they can be read in any order. Also, this series is probably going to turn into "Clint and Natasha Do The Avengers." Aw yiss.
> 
> I thought I'd challenge myself to write something really pornographic, and this is the result. It contains kink, prolonged pornographic sex, and delightfully profane language. It's also my first femmeslash, which is exciting.
> 
> Feedback makes me a happy fangirl. I'd love to hear what you think!

When Clint and Natasha first met, they both realized it was inevitable that they would have pornographic sex. They’re both attractive people, and there’s a lot of chemistry between them. Add to that chemistry a level of trust that they reserve only for each other, and the sex turned out to be more than just pornographic. It’s positively sheet-scorching.

But they’re both kind of flighty, and they both like the rush of seduction, so while they have all kinds of awesome, emotionally-bonded sex together, they also like to fuck other people when the mood strikes. One telling the other about a particularly good sexual escapade usually leads to even more mind-blowing sex, and they’re happy with that.

So after all that Avengers shit dies down, they hole up in Natasha’s apartment in New York for a few days and refuse to answer their phones. They've been apart for too long thanks to one mission or another: Natasha in California, babysitting Tony Stark, and then in Russia; Clint in New Mexico, first as Coulson's eyes in the sky and then guarding Selvig; and then all that crap with Loki. They make up for it by not getting dressed for a solid 72 hours.

“So,” Natasha purrs, licking Clint’s come off of her lips. “Have any fun in New Mexico? Before the Selvig thing, that is.”

Clint can’t answer for a minute; Natasha’s blowjobs do that to him. “You are going to suck me dry one of these days,” he pants, and she gives him a particularly smug grin.

“Um. Fun. Yeah,” he finally says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Met this girl. Probably too young for me.”

“Are we talking Barely Legal material?” she teases, crawling up to lie on her side beside him.

“Oh god, no,” he says, rolling to face her and stroking the soft skin of her hip. “Early twenties. College girl. Brunette, cute, fucking amazing tits.”

“Better than mine?” Natasha says with a raised eyebrow.

Clint grins. “Yours are by far my favorite tits in the whole world,” he said, burying his face in them.

“Good. Now,” she says, interrupting herself with a moan when Clint sucks on her nipples. “Oh! Oh, god... now, tell me. What did you do to this cute young thing with great tits?”

Clint hums in response, giving her nipple one last suck and moving up her body, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and sliding his other hand between her legs. “Mm, you’re wet,” he murmurs, tongue darting out to glance over her parted lips. “Well, we ended up getting drunk and fucking in the back room of a bar in Puente Antiguo.”

“Classy,” Natasha gasps as he pushes two fingers into her pussy. “How did you do her? Did you bend her over a box and fuck her from behind? Or did she get down on her knees and suck you off?”

Clint groans in response, and also because Natasha’s just wrapped a hand around his cock and is stroking him back to hardness. “You... you know me too well, baby,” he rumbles, crooking his fingers so that he’s rubbing her g-spot with every stroke. “Bent her over a table and ate her pussy, then fucked her hard. God, she was so wet. Begging for my cock.”

Natasha cries out, rolling onto her back a little, her hips canting up against his hand like they do when she’s close to coming. He fingerfucks her harder, rubbing his thumb against her clit in gentle circles. “And... and... oh!” she moans, gripping his cock tight with one hand and his forearm with the other. “And how did you finish off?”

“She got down on her knees,” he growls, leaning so he’s hovering over her. “Pulled the condom off me and jerked me off until I came all over her gorgeous tits.”

Natasha’s back arches sharply and her cunt starts contracting around his fingers, releasing a gush of fluid that soaks his forearm. He loves making her come like this, and no matter how hot it is with other women, it’s never as good as it is with Natasha. She shudders a few more times, and then tugs on his arm until he pulls his fingers free.

When he brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean, she has to close her eyes for a second, the sight sending a few last jolts of pleasure through her body. “Jesus, I missed you,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss her.

“I missed you, too,” she whispers back, running her fingers through his messy hair. “It’s good to have you back.”

He pulls back a little and gives her a soft smile, one that makes her heart flutter a little bit. And then the grin turns foxy, and she feels her own lips curving up to match his. “How about you?” he asks, trailing damp fingers over her collarbone. “Did you have any fun in California?”

“Actually, no,” she says. “Natalie Rushman is all business. And Stark’s enough of a handful that I couldn’t afford to be distracted.”

“Aw,” he says, looking like Christmas had just been called off, and Natasha laughed and took mercy on him.

“But I did have some fun here in New York, right before I left for Russia,” she says, and his eyes light up.

“Do tell,” he rumbles, moving so he’s lying between her legs, half on top of her with his chest pressed against her belly.

He bends his head to her breasts and starts trailing kisses over the sensitive skin, making her squirm underneath him. “Oh, I just took a girl out to a bar,” she says, wrapping one leg around his hip, her heel against the back of his thigh.

“Ooh, a girl?” he says, giving her an intrigued eyebrow. “It’s been a while since you’ve had a girl.”

“I know!” she replies with a wide-eyed, faux-innocent look that makes him laugh.

“Heh. So tell me about this girl,” he says, dropping his mouth back down to her breast and licking a slow circle around her nipple.

“Mm,” she sighs, stretching her arms above her head. “Pretty, young, brunette. And in an amazing coincidence, she also had a great rack. We obviously have similar taste in women, Barton.”

“My good taste has obviously rubbed off on you. So you took this girl to a club, and...”

He sucks her nipple into his mouth, and Natasha brings a hand to the back of his head to keep him there. “We had a few martinis, had a few laughs,” she says a little breathlessly; Clint is way too good with that tongue of his. “She wasn’t from New York, so she was feeling a little... lonely.”

Clint lets her nipple slip from his mouth and gives her a grin. “And you helped the poor little out-of-town girl feel a little less lonely?” he teases.

“Hey,” she says, tugging at his hair. “Weren’t you doing something? Get back to it. And... well, it was more like she got tipsy and stuck her tongue in my mouth in the middle of the club, much to the surprise of the asshole who’d been hitting on us both all evening.”

He lets out a little huff of laughter, a breath that’s cool against her damp skin, but keeps sucking her nipple until she’s rolling her hips underneath him, trying to rub herself against his stomach.

“So we caught a cab back to my apartment--” she continues, but Clint raises his head again, much to her annoyance.

“You brought her back here? Oh, please tell me you fucked her on this bed.”

“On the couch,” Natasha corrects him, then gives him a very pointed look.

He grins lazily and licks her other nipple. "Keep going," he says, shifting a little so he can rub his erection against her leg.

Sinking her fingers into his hair again, she sighs when he trails kisses along the underside of her breast. "She was nervous," Natasha says. "It was cute. I'm pretty sure she's had sex with women before, so I'm not sure--"

"Babe," Clint interrupts, his voice a little muffled by her breast. "You're... kind of intimidating."

Natasha chews on that thought for a second and then smirks. "Aw, do I intimidate you?"

"Maybe a little, but I'm enough of a badass to take you on."

"Yeah, okay," Natasha laughs. "Anyway, she was nervous, so I had to take the lead. But as soon as I got her shirt off, she became rather... enthusiastic."

He gives her that foxy grin again, peeking at her from between her breasts. "Enthusiastic how?" he says.

"I'll tell you if you shut up and put your mouth to better use, Barton."

"Yes, ma'am," he says with a salute, dropping his mouth down to press open-mouthed kisses against the dip between her breasts.

Her head falling back, Natasha runs her fingers through his hair and shifts just enough to grind her clit against the hard muscles of his stomach. "She had the most amazing lips," she murmurs. "I loved kissing her. And I loved having those lips in... other places."

Clint groans softly and pushes himself up, hitching her legs around his hips and sliding into her in a hot, wet glide. She gasps and grips his biceps, feeling the strong muscles shift as he slowly works his cock in and out. "I pushed her down on the couch," Natasha moans. "And started to go down on her, but she pulled me up to straddle her head, and we made each other come with our tongues first."

"Oh fuck," Clint breathes, punctuating his words with a slightly rougher thrust.

"Mm, then I turned around, and she wrapped her arms around me so we could kiss. Let me tell you, that girl knew her way around a clitoris."

At that, Clint laughs and sits up on his heels, pulling her ass up to rest on his thighs, changing the angle of his thrusts just enough to send a jolt of pleasure through her body.

"Ah!" she gasps, fisting her hands in the sheets. "She... ah... she got me off with her fingers, and then I played with her breasts until she was writhing underneath me. My god, her breasts were amazing, and so sensitive. When I was sucking her nipple, all I had to do with push my fingers into her cunt and she came--"

She has to stop her story at that point because Clint's gripping her hips tight, fucking her hard and fast, the broad head of his cock bumping against her g-spot on the way in and dragging against it on the way out. Natasha throws her hands out to brace herself against the headboard, and she's coming far more quickly than she would have expected possible, pushed over the edge by the feel of him inside her and the thrill of recounting her encounter with the girl.

Clint holds her hips steady as she comes, and her whole body is into this one; she jerks and shudders and screams, her pussy gripping his cock tight as a fucking hand, and she squirts again, three or four gushes of hot liquid against his stomach and groin. Clint would probably be impressed with his sexual prowess if he wasn't coming himself, pushing his dick as deep as it will go and spilling inside her.

He slowly slumps forward as his cock jerks a few last times, and Natasha is giving him that debauched grin that he loves so much, laughing breathlessly. "That good, huh?" she says, squeezing him with her pussy and wringing a few more shivers out of his body.

Sliding his knees back, he collapses on top of her, going completely limp. She laughs harder and pushes at his shoulders, not hard enough to actually make him budge but just to wriggle underneath him and make him groan when she bucks her hips up against his.

"Ugh, stop deadweighting," she complains, but he can hear the smile in her voice. "You weigh a ton, you know."

"It's all of my manly muscle mass," he mumbles, his face pressed against the sweet-smelling curve of her neck.

Sliding an arm underneath her, he rolls so that he's on his back and she's sprawled on top of him, her red hair spilling over his shoulder and tickling his cheek. "Y'know, I really love the sounds you make when you come," she says, wrapping her arms around his chest.

"I don't sound like I'm caught in a milking machine, do I?"

That gets a throaty laugh out of her, and Clint smiles at the ceiling.

"No, you don't sound like you're caught in a milking machine."

"Oh. Good. Because when you come that hard, it kinda feels like it."

Lifting her head from his chest, she smacks him on the arm, but she's smiling smugly, and he grins back. "Love you," he says softly.

"I know," she replies with a shrug, and he tickles her until she says it back, breathless with laughter.

Natasha drops onto the mattress beside him and stretches, her back arching and showing off her breasts very nicely. He rolls onto his side to get a better view, propping his head up on his hand. "I'm sorry," he says, stroking his other hand over her flat stomach. "I interrupted your story. Please, do go on."

Smiling, she threads her fingers through his. "There's not much else to tell," she says with a one-shouldered shrug. "We had sex on my couch. I took her back to S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ before anyone noticed she was gone. And anyway, my story was longer than yours."

"True," he admits. "But really, nothing else?"

She chuckles. "Okay, let me dredge my memory for another juicy tidbit," she says, scrunching up her brow in mock-concentration. "She had a tattoo that was very nice to lick."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mm-hm. On the front of her hip," she says, sliding their entwined hands down to the spot on her own body. "A pinup girl like what's her name... Bettie Page."

Clint pushes himself upright. "...With two blue swallows on either side of Bettie?" he asks.

Natasha nods, the beginning of a surprised smile curving the corner of her lips. "With cherries hanging from their beaks."

Clint's eyebrows crawl up nearly to his hairline. "...D-Darcy?" he stammers.

"That would be the one," Natasha says, bringing a hand up to cover her smile.

They stare at each other for a moment, both running through the other’s story again in their minds, replacing Anonymous Brunette Girl with Darcy Lewis. Clint's mouth opens and closes soundlessly a couple of times, and then he moans, which makes Natasha laugh.

"How... how in the hell did you meet her?" he finally asks, flopping back down beside her.

"She was at S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ for debriefing along with Drs. Foster and Selvig."

"And you just... took her out to a bar and then seduced her?"

She raises an impish eyebrow at him. "And you just got her drunk and fucked her in the back room of a bar in New Mexico?" she retorts.

"Hey, she got me drunk. She bought the tequila."

She ignores his interruption. "When you were supposed to be, I don't know, watching out for giant Norse robots and wayward gods?" she finishes, and he gives her a sheepish grin. "She was bored in there, and you know what the guest quarters look like. I thought I'd let her get some fresh air."

"And some fresh tail?"

She pinches him for that, and he yelps, squirming away from her fingers. "Y'know, it's too bad we didn't meet her at the same time," he muses, looking up at the ceiling. "That could've been fun."

"She's going to be in New York next week for some conference," Natasha says, crawling over and plastering her body against his side, resting her head on his shoulder.

"How do you know that?" he asks. "Does Fury have you tracking her or something?"

"No, we text each other."

Clint takes a second to process that idea, and it makes him snicker, which makes Natasha poke him in the ribs. "Sorry, Tash," he says. "I just... I can't imagine you tapping away at your phone, exchanging smart-assed text messages with Darcy."

They're quiet for a long moment, enjoying the feel of each other's bodies. "So..." Clint murmurs, playing with her hair. "She'll be in New York, you say."

Natasha pushes herself up on one elbow, a positively devilish grin on her gorgeous lips. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Barton?" she purrs.


	2. Chapter 2

There's a place near S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Manhattan HQ that Natasha likes; it serves great sushi and plays Brazilian music, but somehow that works. She steps inside and immediately sees Darcy, who's sitting at a tiny table right by the bar, engrossed in something on her smartphone.

Natasha pulls her own phone out of her pocket and taps out a quick text to Clint: _Give me five minutes._

His reply is almost immediate. _Roger, boss lady._

A waiter smiles at Natasha and grabs a menu, but she waves a hand. "Thanks, but my friend's already here," she says, and makes her way across the restaurant.

"Hey you," she says when she gets to the table.

Darcy starts a little, but a smile spreads across her face when she sees Natasha. "Hey yourself!" she replies, getting up and giving Natasha a hug. "It's so good to see you again."

"So how's your conference?" Natasha asks as they sit back down.

"Oh god, intensely boring," Darcy says, tucking her phone into her purse. "It's actually Jane's thing, but I'm her research assistant so I get dragged along. Six straight hours of astrophysics lectures? I'd rather be forced to sit through a _Twilight_ movie marathon."

Natasha smiles. She hadn't had much of a chance to get to know Darcy before, but she likes her. It's not often that she runs into someone that cheerfully sarcastic about pretty much everything--Clint excepted, of course.

Darcy starts chattering away about sneaking out of the conference to go check out Times Square. Natasha's mental countdown hits five minutes, and right on time, Clint walks through the door.

He immediately spots them (they don't call him Hawkeye for nothing) and strolls over to the bar, taking the stool right behind Darcy's chair. Darcy, on the other hand, is completely oblivious and is currently talking about the insane line at a Starbucks she'd visited. Natasha stifles the urge to smirk and instead rests her chin on her hand, letting her eyes roam down to Darcy's ample cleavage.

"Hey, lady," Darcy says. "My eyes are up here."

"Yes," Natasha answers with a lazy smile. "And your breasts are down there."

"Oh, it's going to be _that_ kind of trip to New York?" Darcy smirks. "Darn. I should've shaved my legs."

Out of the corner of her eye, Natasha sees the bartender make his way over to Clint. "Yeah, can I get a Black & Gold and a Maker's Mark on the rocks?" Clint says, loud enough to be heard clearly over the music.

Darcy's eyes go wide behind her black-rimmed glasses, and her posture suddenly changes to something that reminds Natasha of a meerkat who's just spotted a hawk--which is actually quite an apt metaphor, now that she thinks about it.

"What?" Natasha says, and she's grateful for all of her training in maintaining a poker face, because she very much wants to laugh.

"I just..." Darcy stammers. "Why do I know that voice?"

"You know this voice because it told you to bend over that table in New Mexico," Clint says right in her ear, the teasing bastard.

Darcy jumps like she's just stuck her finger in a light socket.

"So what do you want to drink?" Clint continues as if he hadn't just startled five years off of Darcy's life.

"Cosmo," Natasha answers for Darcy, whose mouth is now opening and closing soundlessly.

Clint deposits the drinks on the table, but there are only two chairs. "Budge up," he says to Natasha.

She raises an eyebrow at him, but stands and lets him sit in the chair, and then settles back down comfortably in his lap. He snakes an arm around her waist and only then looks at Darcy again, and it takes all of his willpower not to laugh.

"S-so," she says, swallowing loudly enough for him to hear. "You two... uh, know each other?"

Natasha leans back against his chest, tipping her head to rest it against his. "What was your first clue?" Clint quips and grunts when Natasha elbows him in the ribs.

"Yes, we know each other," Natasha answers. "Pretty well."

"And... is this the part where you two are like, 'SURPRISE! You slept with the wrong couple!' and do some terrifying secret agent shit to me, and I'm never heard from again?" Darcy says, anxiety evident in her expression.

Natasha leans across the table and takes Darcy's hands. "Absolutely not," she says firmly, and Darcy visibly relaxes.

"Soooo, I'm guessing you guys know that I slept with both of you, then," Darcy says with a blush.

"We traded secrets," Natasha says, and though he can't see her face, Clint knows exactly which smile is splayed across her lips. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

Darcy gives Natasha a little smile, and her eyes flick over to Clint's face. He grins at her, and she blushes again.

"What happens now?" Darcy asks.

Natasha leans back against Clint again. "I vote that we eat sushi," Clint says. "I'm starving."

"What happens tonight is up to you, Darcy," Natasha says, her hand coming to rest on his where it's wrapped around her waist. "We can have dinner and a few drinks, catch up and then go on our merry ways, or we can... well. Do whatever you want."

Darcy's quiet for a moment, and then her lips curve up into a smirk. "I think I'll take what's behind door number two, Monty," she says, and Clint laughs, giving Natasha a quick squeeze.

They move to a bigger table because Clint can't use chopsticks and actually get the food to make it to his mouth with Natasha perched in his lap, and anyway, having Natasha's delectable ass in that close proximity to sensitive parts causes problems of another nature.

Dinner is tasty and actually quite fun. Clint really didn't have much of a chance to talk to Darcy in Puente Antiguo (or he was too drunk to remember what they talked about), and he's pleasantly surprised to find out that she's actually very smart and quick-witted as well as being downright funny. She regales them with the story of Thor's first taste of Midgard and in between bouts of laughter, Clint can tell that Natasha is doing exactly what he's doing: compiling a mental list of blackmail material to use on Thor whenever the opportunity arises.

Finally, they finish their mochi ice cream, and Darcy's looking a little awkward again, particularly when Clint picks up the bill. "Put it away," he says when she reaches into her purse. "No, put away your damn wallet. I got this."

"He's kind of chivalrous that way," Natasha says with a grin. "Come on, Darcy. Let's get a cab."


	3. Chapter 3

When they get to her apartment, Natasha takes Darcy's jacket and hands it to Clint along with hers. "Will you hang these up?" she says softly and brushes a kiss against his cheek.

He turns his head and catches her lips with his, and the kiss sends a thrill of arousal through her. She can't wait to be pinned between his body and Darcy's. "You gonna help her relax?" he whispers, and the innuendo is heavy in his voice.

Drawing back, she gives him a smile that makes him raise his eyebrows. He grins back and takes their coats, disappearing into her bedroom, and Natasha turns to find Darcy on her knees on the couch, looking out the window.

"You know if you lean just right, you can see Central Park around that building there," Natasha says, kneeling on the couch beside her.

"Awesome," Darcy murmurs. "Secret agent stuff must pay well. This is a hell of a place. I think I was too drunk and nervous to tell you that before."

Natasha leans onto the back of the couch with one arm and slips the other around Darcy's waist. "Thanks," she says and leans in, pressing her lips against Darcy's.

She pretty much melts against Natasha; she scoots her knees enough to press her body against Natasha's and then goes pliant. Each touch of Natasha's hands makes Darcy arch or shiver, and she lets Natasha steer her down onto her back on the leather couch cushion.

"Mm," Natasha hums, running her tongue across Darcy's full upper lip. "It's good to see you again."

Her hand slips under the hem of Darcy's skirt, skating over the soft skin of her thigh until she feels lacy underwear, and Darcy sucks in a rather desperate breath. "How the hell can you be so... so... nonchalant at a time like this?" Darcy says with a faint laugh.

"Secret agent training," Natasha deadpans and slips her tongue into Darcy's mouth.

When she slides her hand out from under her skirt, Darcy makes a disappointed noise that quickly turns into a pleased noise when Natasha tugs her shirt over her head, leaving her dark hair spread messily over the white leather. Natasha straddles Darcy's thighs and lifts herself up onto her knees, trailing her hands over the pale skin of Darcy's stomach. She's wearing a black bra, and god, Natasha had somehow managed to forget just how magnificent those breasts are. Natasha is pretty well-endowed herself, but Darcy looks like a fertility goddess, all lush curves and pouty lips, just begging to be worshipped.

"Come on," Natasha breathes, taking Darcy's hands and pulling her upright.

The younger woman is already looking a little dazed, and Natasha can't help but feel smug. She leads Darcy into the bedroom, where Clint is shirtless and lounging on the big bed, the covers pulled off and folded neatly on the floor. There is a noticeable bulge in his jeans; he's obviously been watching them through the open doorway. "Don't let me interrupt what you were doing," he says with a grin that borders on a leer.

Natasha slides her arms around Darcy's waist and tugs her close, giving her a quick but scorching kiss that leaves the girl breathless. "What do you say?" Natasha purrs, stroking her palms over Darcy's back. "Should we give him a show?"

"You know my vote," Clint chimes in, and she tosses him a look over her shoulder.

Darcy answers by quickly unbuttoning Natasha's blouse and pushing it off of her shoulders. The dazed look is gone, and a mischievous expression has taken its place, and Natasha grins back, letting her shirt drop to the floor before wrapping her arms around Darcy's waist again.

Darcy leans in to kiss her, her teeth catching on Natasha's bottom lip, and Natasha quickly unzips her skirt, pushing down over her hips to pool at their feet. Darcy's hands come around to the zipper of Natasha's jeans and quickly tug it down, but the pants are too tight to push down easily.

"Okay, these make your ass look amazing, but they are in my way," Darcy says, pushing Natasha down to sit on the edge of the bed. "Come on. Let's get them off."

Grasping the waistband, she peels them down Natasha's legs and tosses them to the floor behind her. Her hands start at Natasha's ankles and slowly slide up her legs, the sensation making Natasha squirm.

"Time to get naked," Natasha says, and Darcy hums in agreement.

Lingerie comes off in record time, and then Natasha is pushing Darcy down on the bed, slipping one knee between her thighs and bracing her body above Darcy's, dipping her head down to trail kisses along her collarbone.

The bed dips a little, and Natasha looks up to see Clint climbing off. "Where do you think you're going?" she purrs, arching her back a little when Darcy's hands slide up from her waist to her breasts.

"Just over here," he answers, sprawling on the armchair in front of the window, one leg flung over the chair's arm. "I hear it's the best seat in the house, and I want a good view."

And he definitely has a good view. Natasha and Darcy are both pale and curvy and gorgeous, and he briefly considers pinching himself. Watching the two of them kiss and press those gorgeous bodies together is just too good to be true.

Natasha pushes herself up onto her knees, moving to straddle Darcy's waist, and Darcy's hands come up to cup Natasha's breasts, thumbs rubbing her nipples until they're hard, and Clint's mouth is watering at the sight.

"Ohhh yeah," he breathes when Natasha leans back, pushing her hand between Darcy's thighs.

He shoves a hand back through his hair, not that it's actually bothering him or anything, then slowly slides that hand down his chest and over his stomach to fiddle with the button on his jeans.

Natasha slips a finger into Darcy's cunt, finding her hot and slick already. Darcy gasps a little, and her fingers close on Natasha's nipples, sending a shock of pleasure through her body. Clint makes a quiet noise, and Natasha glances up in time to watch him run his big hand over his chest and flat stomach, fingers coming to rest on the waistband of his jeans.

Darcy pinches Natasha's nipples again, wrenching a gasp from her lips. "Hey," Darcy says, giving her a sly grin. "Pay attention to me. You can have him later. You're mine right now."

"Is that so?" Natasha purrs, catching Darcy's wrists and pinning them to the mattress. "And here I thought I was in charge."

"Haven't you ever heard of topping from the bottom?" Darcy retorts.

She shivers a little when Natasha raises an eyebrow. Slowly lowering herself down, Natasha lets her tongue slip out and graze across Darcy's lips. "Oh, I can top you, Darcy," she breathes. "But maybe we should save that for your next trip to New York. I think you're going to have enough fun tonight without being tied to the headboard."

She can practically read Darcy's mind through the expression on the girl's face, and Natasha makes a mental note to oil her leather cuffs before Darcy's next trip to the city.

Darcy leans up and kisses Natasha hard, her arms straining against Natasha's grip, but Natasha is far stronger than Darcy. She leans a little more weight onto her arms and plunders the girl's mouth, kissing Darcy until she's breathless and shivering.

Sitting up again, Natasha tugs at Darcy until they're angled across the bed, their feet toward Clint in the armchair. "Don't say I never did anything nice for you," Natasha says without looking at him.

Pulling Darcy up onto her side, Natasha presses her body against Darcy's and kisses her again, propping herself up on one elbow and sinking her hand into her dark hair. Darcy's hand clutches at Natasha's waist first, then cups her breast, fingers brushing over Natasha's nipple.

Natasha lets her hand drift over Darcy's body, stroking soft skin and making her shiver. When she reaches her thigh, Natasha hitches Darcy's leg around her waist, pulling her close so that they're pressed together intimately.

Darcy gets the idea immediately and starts to roll her hips, grinding against Natasha, her neatly-trimmed pubic hair rubbing against Natasha's smooth mound. Natasha lets out a soft moan against Darcy's mouth, bringing her hand up to tease her nipple. Darcy, on the other hand, slides her fingers down between their bodies to circle Natasha's clit.

Her head falling back, Natasha gasps and moves her hand back down, gliding over the outside of Darcy's hip, and she has to push herself up on her hand so that she can slide two fingers into her pussy, pumping them in and out.

Not to be outdone, Darcy pushes her fingers inside of Natasha, and everything turns into a blur of gasps and moans as they grind together, fucking themselves on each other's fingers. Darcy buries her face in Natasha's neck, her tongue working the hollow at the base of her throat, shuddering into an orgasm on Natasha's fingers.

There's a low groan somewhere outside of the bed's borders, and Natasha opens her eyes, surprised that she'd nearly forgotten Clint was there. He's still sprawled on the chair, but his jeans are open and his hand is wrapped around his thick cock, stroking slowly from base to tip and back again. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and as she watches, his tongue swipes across his lower lip, and quite suddenly, Natasha is coming, her fingers slipping out of Darcy so she can grip her hip, shuddering against her soft body.

When Natasha's moans die down, Darcy pulls back and grins. "Oh my god," she says. "Did you really just come because you _looked_ at him? That's talent, Clint."

Licking her lips, Natasha kisses Darcy and then pushes herself up and crawls to the edge of the bed. "Get over here, Barton," she orders, her voice already a little hoarse.


	4. Chapter 4

Clint levers himself out of the chair and has to stand still for a second; the sight of Natasha on her hands and knees sends pretty much all of the blood still circulating in his brain straight down to his cock, and he's so turned on that he's dizzy. When he's sure he can move without falling (which is the absolute opposite of the effect he's going for), he crosses to the bed, putting a little swagger in his walk, hooking his thumb into his jeans and tugging them down a little more.

From the look on Natasha's face, he can tell his little show has had the intended effect. She looks like she's ready to eat him alive, and Darcy, who's running her hands over Natasha's back, gives him an impish grin. "Nice one," she mouths before pressing a kiss to the small of Natasha's back.

Clint bites back a grin and slides his other hand into Natasha's flame-colored hair, already mussed from rolling around with Darcy. "Was there something you wanted?" he asks, his voice low.

Natasha smirks up at him and grabs his belt loop, tugging at his jeans. "Take off your goddamn pants so I can suck your cock," she growls.

"Yes, ma'am," he says, shucking his jeans and kicking them to the side.

Natasha slides a hand around to grip his ass when he steps back in front of her, her short fingernails digging into his skin and making him groan. Darcy's sitting a little to the side, watching the show with interest, so he decides to go all out.

"Open your mouth, Tasha," he rumbles.

Her eyebrow arches and for a second, he thinks she's going to balk or maybe even take his legs out from under him (she can easily do that even in an awkward fighting position like this). This is obviously going to turn into a power play, and he fucking loves it when they play that game. Something around the edge of the look she's giving him makes him feel bold, and he steps in closer, brushing the head of his cock against her lush lips.

"I said, open your mouth," he growls, pushing his other hand back into her hair.

By this point, Darcy's moved up to sit right next to Natasha and is watching with the same sort of tightly-reined enthusiasm he feels when he can tell a fight's just about to break out. His eyes flick over to Darcy, then back to Natasha, and Tasha's gaze quickly follows his. When she looks back at him, the corners of her lips curve up into a tiny smile, and he gets her message loud and clear.

_Put on a show._

He tugs Natasha's hair sharply, though not enough to hurt, and her head tips back, her lips parting with a little "oh!" of surprise. Her lips are wet and the head of his cock slides in easily, her tongue curving around the underside as she lets him push deeper into her mouth.

"That's right, beautiful," he breathes, holding her hair back with one hand and stroking her cheek with the other. "Suck my cock."

Her cheeks hollow as she draws back, then relax as she pushes forward, and she starts a slow, steady rhythm that makes him hum with pleasure.

Cutting her eyes up at him, she takes a deep breath and swallows him down, taking more and more of his cock into her mouth until her nose is pressed against the hair at his groin. Holding him there for a second, she swallows, and he can feel her throat fluttering around the head of his cock.

"Fuck," he groans, his hand trembling against her cheek.

She swallows again, making him shudder, before carefully pulling back and letting his cock slip from her mouth. When she licks him with the flat of her tongue, base to tip like she's licking a popsicle, Darcy lets out a moan.

"Holy fuck," she says. "You two should start your own porn site. This is some high quality material right here. I don't usually get off to blowjobs, but I could get off to this."

Natasha's laugh is a gust of cool breath against his wet cock. "If the secret agent thing ever falls through, we'll be sure to keep that option open," she says huskily before licking his cock again.

Darcy grins at him, and Clint reaches out to touch her but she's already sliding away, crawling back onto the bed and framing Natasha's hips with her hands. When Darcy presses her mouth against her cunt, a shudder runs through Natasha's body, and she rests her forehead against his hip for a moment, whimpering quietly.

"Wait, wait," Clint says suddenly, and both women give him a death glare. "No, don't kill me. I have a better idea."

With a bit of maneuvering, they're arranged on the bed in a slightly lopsided triangle. "Always wanted to do this," he says, wrapping his hands around Darcy's thighs and pulling her against his mouth.

Darcy's laugh turns into a moan when he flattens his tongue against her clit, and then she buries her face between Natasha's legs and Natasha swallows his cock again, and Clint thinks this just might be near the top of his list of the sexiest things he's ever done.

Darcy's taste is different from Natasha's, not as sweet, a little saltier, and she tastes good, like naughty, stolen moments in the back rooms of bars. Abandoning her clit for the moment, he pushes his tongue into her cunt and wiggles it, enjoying the way her body jerks at the sensation.

Natasha has to pull her mouth off of his cock pretty quickly so she can moan and cry out. He's okay with that, because it is way too tempting to come in her sweet mouth, and he wants to hold out as long as he can.

The sounds Natasha is making are getting pretty desperate, and he can tell she's close. Mumbling an apology, he pulls his mouth away from Darcy because he has to watch this.

Natasha rolls onto her back and Darcy quickly moves to lie flat on her stomach, pushing Natasha's thighs apart and up against her chest. Darcy pushes a couple of fingers into Natasha's pussy and is bearing down on her clit with her tongue, licking and sucking and making obscene slurping noises, and Clint has to take a few short breaths through his nose and convince his dick that now is not the time.

Her hands fly out to her sides, fingers gripping the sheet tight, and Natasha cries out loudly enough to echo off of the ceiling, coming hard against Darcy's tongue. She's shuddering and writhing, her beautiful face contorted with pleasure, and Clint has to squeeze the base of his cock tight. It's just too sexy.


	5. Chapter 5

Darcy finally backs off and lets Natasha come down, and Clint tugs Darcy upright, kissing her hard and messy, licking the taste of Natasha's cunt off of her lips. "Jesus," he breathes when her hand wraps around his cock. "You two are going to kill me before I can even fuck either of you."

"Maybe I should stop doing this, then," Darcy says, twisting her wrist a little as she strokes him. "I'm looking forward to being fucked, and I'd hate to be the cause of your death."

Natasha's recovered by this time, and she sits up a little unsteadily, giving Clint a lazy, satisfied smile. She jerks her head at Darcy and winks at him.

"Your turn," Clint says, pushing Darcy onto her back.

"Why isn't it your turn?" she says teasingly, trying to reach for his cock again.

He evades her roaming hands and settles on her left as Natasha sprawls out on her right. "Because based on experience, I know both of you are capable of multiple orgasms," he says, guiding her arm around his shoulder. "I need a little more recovery time than you girls."

"Girls?" Natasha repeats with a raised eyebrow.

"Ladies? Babes? Gorgeous women? Spicy dames? Am I getting close?"

"Almost there," Natasha says, propping her head up on her hand and giving him a teasingly unimpressed look.

"Sex goddesses?"

"Ooh, I like that one," Darcy chimes in. "C'mere, fellow sex goddess. I want to make out with you."

Natasha leans in and kisses Darcy, sliding her hand across her stomach and then up to fondle her breast.

Clint's been waiting to get his hands on Darcy's tits all evening, and he takes advantage of the opportunity now, cupping her other breast and running the callused pad of his thumb over her nipple.

Just like Natasha had said, even that light touch sends a shudder through Darcy's body. He grins at Natasha and leans in to kiss Darcy, nipping at her bottom lip, gently rolling her nipple between his forefinger and thumb. Natasha's lips curl up into a particularly lascivious smile, and she dips her head down to flick at Darcy's nipple with the tip of her tongue.

"If there's one thing I regret in my life, it's that I didn't take your bra off in that back room," Clint rumbles. "Because dear god, look at what I was missing. What if I had died before we could have this threesome, and I never got to wrap my hands around these magnificent breasts?"

"Careful," Darcy says around a gasp. "You're going to make your girlfriend jealous, and she could kill us both with her thighs."

Natasha smirks at them both. "It would have been absolutely tragic, Clint," she teases, brushing her lips against the soft skin of Darcy's breast. "And you would have died knowing that I did get my hands on those magnificent breasts, and you didn't."

"That would be the worst tragedy of all time," Clint says with a grin.

Soon Darcy's arching up underneath them, moaning against Clint's mouth, squeezing her thighs together. "Oh shit, oh shit," she gasps, breaking away from his kiss.

"You gonna come?" Clint rumbles, and she whimpers in response.

Natasha slides down Darcy's body, pushing her legs apart. She catches Clint's eye and her tongue darts out to swipe over Darcy's clit, which sends a shudder through the girl's body. Keeping her eyes on his, Natasha presses her mouth against Darcy's mound, and he can tell she's working Darcy with her tongue.

The sight of Natasha licking and sucking Darcy's clit, red hair splayed over pale thighs, sends lust roaring through his body. Clint drops down a little, letting his mouth take over while his hand moves to her other breast, teasing her with tongue and fingertips. Darcy's fingers grip his hair tight, and her other hand slaps flat on the mattress as they wrench a cry from her throat.

"Oh FUCK!" she shouts, and her body suddenly convulses, her back arching and her hips lifting off of the mattress, grinding her pussy against Natasha's mouth.

Natasha slips her tongue inside of Darcy as she comes, wiggling the tip and reveling in the results of her hard work. Clint backs off first, and Natasha reluctantly slides her tongue out, giving Darcy one last lick before sitting up on her heels.

Clint practically falls over Darcy's leg trying to get to Natasha. He swipes his tongue across her lips as she laughs at his enthusiasm, and when he pulls her against his body and kisses the hell out of her, grinding his hard cock against her stomach, she moans and sinks her hands into his hair.

His hands close around her upper arms and suddenly she's on her back on the mattress next to Darcy. This is maybe the third or fourth time in however many years they've been partnered that he's caught her off guard and pinned her, and she answers his smug grin with an impressed quirk of her lips.

"I was distracted," she says, and he lets out a huff of laughter.

"Yeah, but I still got you," he replies, settling on his side against her, pressing his lips to hers again.

"Hey, don't forget that I'm here," Darcy says, pushing herself up onto her elbows. "I didn't come all the way to New York to be ignored in my first threesome."

Natasha pushes Clint away and pulls Darcy in for a kiss instead, their tongues tangling together in a way that makes Clint, who's apparently watching very closely, groan.

Darcy cuddles up against Natasha's other side, her hand drifting down Natasha's flat stomach and slipping between her thighs. The feel of Darcy's fingers pushing into her pussy makes Natasha shiver, as does the feel of Clint's big hand cupping her breast.

Darcy starts pumping her fingers in and out, and Natasha lets her head fall back onto the bed, moaning when Clint closes his fingers on her nipple and tugs gently.

"Turn your hand palm up," Clint says, and it takes a second to filter into Natasha's mind that he's giving Darcy instructions. "Curl your fingers up to hit her g-spot."

"Oh, g-spots are good. I like g-spots," Darcy says, her voice a little husky.

"Tasha likes it when you hit it hard," he continues, squeezing Natasha's breast. "Try pushing your fingers in as deep as you can and rubbing circles in there."

Natasha would laugh at them if Darcy hadn't followed Clint's instructions and started pushing against her g-spot. "Oh god," she gasps, hands fisting in the sheet.

"Wait," Clint says, and Darcy pulls her fingers free.

Natasha briefly thinks about killing both of them. But Clint is sitting up and moving down the bed, wrapping his hands around Natasha's calf. "Spread your legs, Tash," he says, a heated look in his eyes.

Natasha opens her thighs, resting one against the outside of Clint's thigh and pulling the other up until Darcy is comfortably kneeling beside Clint, and then Natasha rests her other leg against her hip.

"Okay, try it from here," Clint says, and he sounds so much like he does when he's coaching someone on the firing range that it makes Natasha laugh.

Clint gives her a mock-disdainful look. "Is something funny, missy?" he says, trailing his fingers over the curve of her ankle, right where she's ticklish, and she kicks out at him involuntarily. "Just lie there and keep quiet, got it?"

"Hey, I don't want her to be quiet," Darcy protests as she pushes her fingers back into Natasha's cunt. "Do I get any say in this? Because I want to make her scream."

Clint grins wickedly, and the look makes Natasha shiver. "Oh, I think we can make that happen," he says, his voice a low rumble that makes her tingle all over.

And then Darcy crooks her fingers and starts rubbing at her g-spot, and Natasha stops paying attention to their witty banter. Before long she's hovering right at the edge of orgasm, so when Darcy pulls her fingers out again, a few rather choice curse words slip out of Natasha's mouth.

"I'm sorry!" Darcy says, shaking her hand out. "My wrist is killing me!"

"Too much texting," Clint says sagely.

"I'm going to have to tag you in, Agent Forearms," Darcy says, bumping his hip with hers. "Take her down for me."

Clint makes a show of cracking his knuckles, and Natasha pushes her heel against his leg. "You heard the woman, Barton," she says impatiently. "Get to work."

His fingers are thicker and blunter than Darcy's, and the extra stretch when he pushes two into her cunt makes Natasha groan. He pumps them in and out a few times, slicking them up, and then he turns his palm upward and curls his fingers, pressing them firmly against her g-spot.

Clint knows exactly how to work her body, how to bring her to the edge and keep her hovering there until she's about to lose her mind. She can feel her hips jerking involuntarily, and her heels are scrabbling for purchase on the mattress, and she knows she's moaning and begging but she doesn't really know what words are coming out of her mouth.

"Oh yeah," he growls, fingerfucking her a little bit harder. "Come on, baby. Come for us."

The first wave of an orgasm breaks inside of her as a rush of heat, and then her whole body convulses over and over, her hands fisting in the sheet, her cunt squeezing down hard on his fingers, and she can feel herself squirting. For a moment, everything shuts down; she can't think, can't move, can't do anything but come.

It takes a long moment for her to pull herself together, and when she can finally focus on something other than her own shivering body, she looks down to see Darcy giving Clint a high five.

Which makes Natasha convulse with laughter.

"Goddamn, sir," Darcy says to Clint, sounding highly impressed. "You need to teach me exactly how you do that. I will be the most popular girl at the party if I can make someone do that."

"It's all in your forearm strength," Clint replies with a smug grin. "You just have to focus in and have enough stamina to keep going until she goes off. Get one of those rubber balls that you squeeze when you're stressed out. Those are good."

Natasha pushes herself up onto her elbows and sees that she managed to squirt... well, pretty much all over them. Clint caught most of it--he's damp from his stomach down to his knees, and the hand he's now stroking over her thigh is wet against her skin--but Darcy's thighs are wet, too, and Natasha feels like she should get a medal for that one.

"That," Darcy says, crawling up Natasha's body, "Was amazing. I always thought the girls who do that in porn are just faking it, you know, like, peeing. It's like you opened a whole new world for me. A new fantastic point of view, even."

Clint laughs, and Natasha pulls Darcy in for a long kiss. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see him climbing off of the bed and heading into the bathroom. A minute later, the bed dips again and Clint passes them a couple of hand towels. Cleaning up turns out to be a little difficult because none of them can manage to keep their hands off of each other long enough to get dry.

Natasha finally yanks the towels out of Clint's and Darcy's hands and tosses them away. Darcy catches her eye, and Natasha gives her a tiny grin, flicking her eyes at Clint and then back. Luckily, Darcy is a very perceptive young woman, because she grins back and then they both tackle him, wrestling him to the bed.


	6. Chapter 6

Darcy ends up straddling his thighs while Natasha pins his shoulders to the mattress, and his laughter turns to a groan when Darcy takes hold of his cock, stroking him back to full hardness. The way he looks sends another tingle of heat through Natasha's body; his lips are parted and his eyes heavy-lidded, and with every move of Darcy's hands, he lets out a little panting moan.

"God, you're sexy," Natasha purrs, leaning down to nip at his bottom lip.

He groans again, swallowing hard. "Tash," he gasps, his hips bucking up into Darcy's grip. "Get a condom. I need to fuck Darcy until she screams."

Natasha's lips curve up into a wicked smile, and she slides a hand down to his groin, cupping his balls while Darcy strokes him. "Oh, I think she's going to make you scream," Natasha says, her tongue darting out to briefly touch his.

"Fuuuuck," Darcy says on a moan. "You two. It's like someone turned my best wet dream into reality."

Clint suddenly makes a desperate noise, and he grips Natasha's wrist hard. "Oops," she says, reaching out to still Darcy's hands. "Give him a second."

Natasha grips the base of his cock and squeezes tight, and after a few seconds, his breathing evens out and his body relaxes a little. "Whew," he says, dragging a hand across his face. "That was close. You two are too sexy for your own good."

Natasha grins at him. "Hold your horses, Barton," she teases, running her hand over his flat stomach. "Or do you need us to take the edge off first?"

A slightly desperate laugh escapes him. "Maybe you should get a ring," he says.

Natasha nods and climbs off of the bed, heading to their toy drawer. "A ring?" Darcy asks as Natasha kneels and opens the drawer. "What k--OH, that kind of ring."

"The one with the snaps okay?" Natasha asks, and Clint grunts an affirmative.

Darcy watches with almost clinical interest as Natasha carefully wraps the leather strap around the base of Clint's cock and underneath his balls. "How tight do you want it?" Natasha asks, stroking the inside of his thigh.

A lazy grin spreads across Clint's face at the innuendo. "You talking about the strap or the pussy?" he replies. "I'd like the pussy to be tight. The strap... eh, not too much. Second snap. If I can't control my loins, you can tighten it."

"Loins?" Darcy snorts.

"Y'know, throbbing loins, all that shit."

"I thought it was throbbing members. No wait. Pulsating members."

Natasha makes a disgusted face. "Ugh. There needs to be a rule that the word 'pulsating' is not allowed in any sexual context," she says, shifting him around a little to make sure everything's in place. "'Throbbing' is much better."

Clint groans when she carefully snaps the strap closed, and he palms his cock, stroking a couple of times to make sure he's comfortable. "Oh, that's good," he breathes. "Now, let's get back to fucking."

Natasha crawls over to the bedside table, opening the drawer and pulling out a box of condoms. They don't usually use them, but they always keep a box handy for special occasions, and she thinks this definitely qualifies as a special occasion. Ripping open the box, she dumps the condoms onto the mattress, tossing the box to the floor, and tears one off of the roll.

When she turns back, Darcy has her gorgeous lips wrapped around Clint's cock, and he's hanging onto the sheet for dear life. She sidles up next to Darcy, running her fingers through her dark hair and smoothing it back from her face. "I love watching you suck his cock," Natasha murmurs, and Darcy shivers visibly. "But I really want to watch you ride him."

His cock comes out of her mouth with an audible pop, and Darcy looks like Christmas just came early. "Oh god yes," she moans, leaning in to kiss Natasha.

Ripping open the packet with her teeth, Natasha spits out the foil strip and then rolls the condom onto Clint, up to the edge of the leather strap wrapped around the base of his cock. Darcy climbs aboard almost before Natasha can get her hands out of the way, and then she's sinking onto him, her head tipping back as she works herself down his shaft.

Natasha starts to settle down beside him, but he catches her with a hand on her thigh. "Mm, c'mere," Clint groans, tugging at Natasha's hips until she straddles his head, facing Darcy. "Wanna taste you."

His tongue slicks a hot, wet line from her clit back to the mouth of her cunt, and Natasha has to grab Darcy's hands to keep from toppling forward. Clint pushes his tongue inside of her and brings one hand up to rub at her clit with his thumb while the other hand grips Darcy's hip.

"Oh my god," Natasha moans, and Darcy gasps in reply.

Natasha quickly realizes that she is way too sensitive from that absolutely outstanding orgasm, and if she doesn't make Clint stop doing what he's doing (he's thrusting his tongue in and out and rubbing tiny circles against her clit), she's just going to turn into a useless, shuddering mess.

"God, god, I need you to stop," she whimpered, toppling to the side and trying her best not to knee him in the face.

Clint makes a disgruntled noise, but Darcy is bouncing away on his cock and that quickly distracts him from any annoyance at having to stop eating Natasha's pussy. Bending down, Natasha kisses him first, licking her taste from his lips, and then she moves up to kiss Darcy. 

And then Natasha gets a really brilliant idea. Pulling away from Darcy's mouth and sucking on her bottom lip in the process, she whispers into Darcy's ear and draws back to watch a wicked smile slide across her lips.

Clint lets out a whine when Darcy lifts off of him, but when she turns around into reverse cowgirl, the whine turns into an approving groan. Natasha crawls around and settles on her knees between their spread legs, appreciating the sight of Clint's cock stretching Darcy open for a moment before dipping her head down and cupping her tongue underneath Clint's balls.

He lets out a yelp that makes her laugh, and the coolness of her breath against the spot she licked makes him shiver. She licks around the rim of the cock ring, then mouths his balls, sucking gently. Clint lets out a delicious groan and starts rocking his hips, thrusting up into Darcy and down against Natasha's hot mouth.

His hips are moving in a very familiar pattern, and she knows exactly what he wants her to do. She grins up at Darcy, who's watching with interest, and grips the backs of his thighs, forcing them up and apart a little more. "Oooh," Darcy says, jostled a little by the movement. "Are you gonna do what I think you're--oh Jesus."

When Natasha presses the flat of her tongue against the tight pucker of Clint's ass, he shouts and bucks like a goddamn rodeo horse. Darcy flails for balance, settling for grabbing his knees to steady herself, her face flushing as she watches Natasha at work.

"Oh fuck yes, oh god," Clint moans, thrusting sharply up into Darcy's pussy, gripping her hips probably too tightly. "Fuck yes. Lick my ass, Tasha, just like that."

Darcy is tight and wet, and Clint is in heaven, rocking between the gripping heat of her cunt and Natasha's tongue. He fucking loves it when she rims him (and loves it even more when she fucks him with a strap-on), but he can tell that this whole thing is going to be over very quickly if she keeps flickering the tip of her clever tongue against his asshole like that.

"Oh Jesus fuck, Tasha, you gotta stop," he groans, body tensing when she pushes hard with her tongue for a second, working at the tight ring of muscle.

She thankfully pulls away, but not before biting the inside of his thigh lightly, and he feels it more than sees it when she gets up. He pants for a second, trying to hold Darcy still, but she's rocking on his cock, and _fuck_ , she's tight.

He's so intent on the way Darcy's pussy is gripping his cock that he almost doesn't notice when Natasha comes back. Her cool hands glide up the insides of his thighs and then disappear, and he desperately wishes he could see what's going on down there.

But he can, and he gropes above his head for a pillow to shove under his neck. The big mirror on the opposite wall is there for precisely this purpose; he and Natasha like to watch themselves fuck. He's absolutely accepting of that little twinge of vanity, because he and Natasha look really, _really_ good when they fuck.

And that big mirror gives him a perfect view of Natasha's tongue in Darcy's mouth and her hand working between Darcy's thighs. "You like this?" Natasha purrs, and Clint's hips start thrusting of their own accord.

Darcy whimpers, and he can almost see Natasha's wicked smile against her lips. "Ooh, you do like this," Natasha says. "You may be riding his cock, but I'm going to make you come, Darcy. Do you want that?"

"Oh god yes," she pants in reply.

"Should I make you come with my fingers or with my tongue?" Natasha asks, and Clint thinks his eyes are going to roll back into his head; she has the absolute best voice for dirty talk he has ever heard.

"Tongue, tongue. Definitely tongue."

In the mirror, he watches Natasha slide down Darcy's body, pausing to lick at her nipples, and then her face disappears between Darcy's thighs so all he can see is a shock of red hair melting into Darcy's pale skin.

But judging by the way Darcy is suddenly cursing at the ceiling and how her pussy is starting to contract rhythmically, he thinks he knows exactly what Natasha is doing down there. He can imagine her tongue working Darcy's clit, her gorgeous lips closing around the hard little nub so she can suck on it. It just takes a few moments more and Darcy is clamping down on his dick, screaming at the top of her lungs.

Clint finds himself once again glad for the apartment's soundproofing. He would really hate to have to explain to the cops that all of that screaming was, in fact, the result of completely consensual (and awesome) sex.

Darcy collapses back onto him, her hair thrown across his face, and she shudders when his hips tilt of their own accord, pushing his cock in deep. "Jesus tittyfucking Christ," she gasps. "I think... I just won the sex lottery."

Pushing the hair out of his face, Clint looks down their bodies to see Natasha grinning like the smuggest motherfucker on the planet.

"Up you get, princess," Clint says, nudging Darcy. "It's Tasha's turn to get fucked until she screams."

"Ngh," Darcy replies, carefully lifting herself off of his cock and promptly collapsing onto the bed. "I think I'm all fucked out. I've got to start going to the gym. I need more stamina."

Clint peels the condom off and lobs it at the trash can, sinking it dead center. Natasha's stretched out on her back beside Darcy, stroking the younger woman's thigh with one hand and her own clit with the other.

Sitting up and getting on his knees, Clint bends down and licks around Natasha's fingers, finding that she's already soaking wet. "Mm, as good as that feels, I think I'd rather be fucked right now," she murmurs, her voice low and throaty. "Come on, big boy. I want your cock."

"Porn stars," Darcy mutters with a grin, cuddling up against Natasha's side.

Clint grins back and slides up on Natasha's other side, gripping her thigh and lifting her leg so she's open for him. "Before I start this," he says, and Natasha groans, wiggling her hips impatiently, "I just want to check. Where am I allowed to come? Can I come on you, Darcy?"

This makes Darcy laugh. "I would be disappointed if you didn't," she replies, her fingers playing with Natasha's nipple. "Aren't you going to ask Natasha?"

"I know where Nat likes my come," he answers with a smirk.

"Oh?" Natasha interjects, arching up against Darcy. "And where is that?"

He sucks her earlobe into his mouth, nibbling at it. "Everywhere," he stage whispers, and Natasha arches into him with a throaty laugh.

"Just keep it out of my hair, hotshot."

"I will do my best, ma'am."

Taking himself in hand, he fits the broad head against the tight mouth of Natasha's pussy and slowly starts working his cock inside of her. She's so tight, gripping his dick as he slowly penetrates her, and even when she's begging for it hard and fast, he still feels like he needs to ease himself into her.

Hitching her leg up a little higher, he pushes until he's bottomed out and she's gasping and whimpering against Darcy's lips. "Oh fuck, baby," he groans against Natasha's ear. "You feel so good."

Her only answer is a drawn-out, stuttering moan, and that means he's doing it right. He pulls back and starts thrusting, and he thinks he might let go of her leg so he can rub her clit, but Darcy's already taking care of that, her fingers working Natasha into a frenzy.

Natasha breaks away from Darcy's mouth and kisses him, fisting one hand in the hair on top of his head, and when Darcy dips her head to suck Natasha's nipples, it pushes her over the edge. She cries out hoarsely, her cunt clamping down on him, and he had plans to hold out longer than this but she's milking him so hard that he can't stop himself.

Even without a cock ring, Clint is a rather... voluminous guy (he's proud of that particular talent), but with a cock ring on, it's like his balls go into overdrive. He can't pull out fast enough because the orgasm sneaks up on him, catching his whole body in a tremendous spasm of pleasure, and he spurts into the gripping heat of Natasha's pussy, shouting something incoherent and obscene.

Then, his desire to end this evening on a particularly pornographic note reasserts itself, and he lets go of Natasha's thigh, tugging his cock loose and jerking off, coming so hard that he actually can't see straight, and god, he hopes he's missing Natasha's hair.

And when his body finally relaxes, he forces his eyes to focus and sees that he's painted them both liberally with come; thick, white stripes crisscross their bodies, and he's proud to notice that even in his rather altered state, he got great coverage on both sets of gorgeous tits. The little part of him that likes to keep track of those sorts of things notes that he even managed to hit Natasha's lips and chin. Fuck, he thinks. He really does love the sight of his come on her beautiful mouth.

And then Darcy leans in, giggling, and licks his jizz off of those lips, which makes his dick twitch in renewed interest. "Sorry, buddy," he mumbles, pressing his face against Natasha's shoulder. "I just don't have it in me."

"Are you talking to your cock?" Natasha teases, reaching down between her legs to stroke it where it's currently resting wetly against her inner thigh.

Clint hisses at the touch on oversensitized skin, and damned if his cock doesn't twitch again. "Yep," he rumbles, working his hand between their bodies and unsnapping the cock ring with a sigh of relief. "Little bastard doesn't know when to give up."

"Well, tell your dick I said congratulations," Darcy says. "This is by far the most impressive load I have ever seen. You even topped your performance in Puente Antiguo. Good show, sir."

"Why thank you," he replies. "Okay, that's it. I can't top this. This is the best thing I will ever do in my life. I can die a happy man now."

Natasha gives him a fond smile, reaching out and trailing her fingers through the come on Darcy's breasts, and then she brings her wet fingers to her mouth.

"Okay," Clint says, giving his dick a very stern mental talking-to. "Shower time, you temptresses."


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning they wake up in a warm tangle of bodies. Natasha is tucked into the curve of Clint's body, and Darcy is snuggled up against Natasha, and it's very nice, Natasha thinks.

Until Darcy bolts upright. "Oh _shit_ , is that clock right?" she exclaims, and Clint jerks awake. "I was supposed to meet Jane at a lecture half an hour ago!"

They dress in a rush and take Natasha's car (which she hardly ever uses; it is New York, after all). Jane's waiting impatiently outside the hotel when Natasha pulls up into a loading zone, and they all get out of the car. The astrophysicist's eyes get wide, but when Darcy kisses both Natasha and Clint on the cheek, her jaw pretty much hits the pavement.

"Dr. Foster," Natasha says politely, suppressing the urge to laugh.

"Um... hello," Jane replies. "Darcy, you're late. We have to get to the conference room, and... Did you--?"

"You bet I did," Darcy says smugly as Jane starts to drag her into the hotel.

"Give us a call next time you're in New York," Clint calls after her with a grin.

Natasha slips her arm into his, and they stroll back to the car.


End file.
